Joker Begins
by Kyuubi no Kaiju V2
Summary: The story of a psychopath... Rated M for disturbing scenes and language. Inspired by the films of Christopher Nolan.


JOKER BEGINS

Written by

Ivan DeJesus

Based on characters featured in

DC Comics

And based on the Batman film series

directed by Christopher Nolan

NOTE: Any grammatical mistakes may notice (namely the tenses of certain verbs) is intentional.

_Honey,_

_As you probably know, this is Mom. Do me a favor and don't do anything stupid, at least not ridiculously stupid, like you did last time I left you alone. Do me another favor and actually try and read the Bible I gave you instead of leaving it on your floor. I'd suggest you read the Ten Commandments as a start. And yes, I'm __**SERIOUS**__._

_Have a good day,_

_Mom_

_P.S. Read this quote I found. It might help you think a little._

"_Evil is the absence of God". – Albert Einstein_

He was in bed when he read Mother's letter, found near the foot of his mattress. His room is plain, overwhelmingly so. Other than the crusted mattress in which he lay upon, a small writing desk that looked like it was thrown up from the dump sat juxtaposed to the mattress, near a mirror tacked to the wall. A single window allowed dim access for the morning sun's light.

_**WHY**__ does Mother insist on feeding me this?..._

He tossed the letter over the bedside, turning his head to watch the paper flutter down like an autumn leaf. He then continues to rise out of his bed, and moved to the mirror, his eyes meeting his reflection-

And he notices it. A long, yet thin laceration across his cheek, arching upwards as if forming some sinister smile. It's as if a knife carved right through him like a pumpkin at Halloween-time.

He notices wiry stitches that keep his cheek in one piece. He counted the number of stitches: there were seventeen. He guided his fingers to his face, brushing the wreckage his that was inflicted on his left cheek-

And as his fingers just barely managed to even feel the wound, an extreme wave of nauseating, stinging pain engulfed the right side of his face. He recoiled in agony as as a crimson river of blood pulsed out from his wound… in which had snapped a stitch!

_Jesus, it hurts __**SO**__ fucking bad!_

As if the pain were his owner, and he, in that case, was the dog, it led him back to the mattress, where he plopped down. The pain was intense, worse than any he felt-

And it was then where his eyes met the letter he had tossed aside… and he finally notices the stained blood on the letter, as if it had been on there for a long time.

And he notices the letter, how different it was before read it, the words that replaced the old were so much different than how he remembered it-

_Honey,_

_Please, forgive me! I'm so sorry!_

_Mommy_

_P.S. Take care of Harleen. She needs you._

And then the memories of what had happened began to reign over him as if by the Prince of Hell himself, forcing itself **SO** painfully into his tortured mind.

_**WHY**__, Mother? No... this cannot be happening to me... NOO!_

_She reminds me of Mom. Her body, eyes, her face… her perfection. It's timeless, angelic, perfect. Oh, how I'd give anything for this woman, I love her __**SO**__ much… __But how can she look at me, at my face, and see something that is worthwhile? Nothing… she'd never love a man like me. I'm ugly, a monster from some fucked up Lovecraft story…_

_ Jesus, look at her. She's got a lot of friends I see. Wow. Looks like she's holding hands with that guy. That fucking bastard, Bruce Wayne… The way they look… you'd think they be __**SERIOUS**__ly off wed one day and live their lives out the way they wanted to._

_ Wait… no. Wayne is not the type to be married... He's a class-A playboy. Look at him, acting like he loves her… making her look like some streetside cunt..._

_ Oh no, she's looking at me! Just look away, just look away… umm, look at that poster on the wall! Yeah, that's very nice... Oh no! She's walking towards me! Alone! Wayne's going the other direction... fuck! __Jesus, she's looking at me! Should I look back at her? Yes! Do it, you bastard! Look at her; she's smiling at me now, and waving "hi" at me..._

_Go ahead, smile back and wave… there you go… Good boy. You did a good thing. Great job. Very good..._

_But just for the record, next time just smile like you're all __**SO SERIOUS**__. _

_Got it? Oh yes. I got it._


End file.
